


Recovery

by J_Flattermann



Series: Eomer Eadig - King of Rohan [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Flattermann/pseuds/J_Flattermann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Recovery<br/>Fandom: LOTR<br/>Pairing: Éomer/Faramir<br/>Genre: Slash<br/>Rating: PG-16<br/>Word Count: 5,561<br/>Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended.<br/>Summary: This story continues were "Troubled Times" ends however it reminiscens on all written stories in this AU-verse. <br/>It is therefore highly recommended to read the other stories first, if the reader isn't familiar with this verse.</p><p>A/N: Sequel to “Stealing Time”, “An Unexpected Visitor”, “Henneth Annûn”, "Troubled Times"  and  "Forever After"<br/>The author would like to express sincere thanks to ingrid44 for editing continuity and for beta.<br/>All mistakes remain my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

[](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/952/852545)  
Written for Winter Story Swap  
  
  


 

_Request No.11)  
  
Asked for:  
  
Éomer/Faramir_   
_ The only real requests I have are _   
_ a) something with a happy ending _   
_ b) smut would be nice but isn't required _   
__ The rest is up to whoever takes the request.

 

  
  


** Recovery **

 

In triumph Éomer new King of Rohan yet to be crowned returned with his Riders of Rohan amongst the allies to the crowned King of Gondor and Arnor. The War of the Ring was won. Even more so as Sam and Frodo had been rescued after the destruction of the One Ring of Power that had given the war its name.

Side by side the two new kings, crowned and yet to be crowned had challenged and fought the enemy at the Black Gates. Now they returned to Minas Tirith greeted by the cheering masses grateful for the deliverance from evil that had been brewing behind the walls of the Barad-Dur. 

The names of King Elessar and Éomer were pearling easily and eagerly from the lips of young and old present. As the two kings processed the street climbing from level to level upwards.

 

As he rode up the city next to Gondor’s King Éomer scanned the crowd in search for a familiar face. He remembered the evening they had been riding out to war there had been a tall slim figure standing in the shadows of the House of Healing seeing him off.

As they were passing the same building just now Éomer hoped against hope to find the same person waiting for him. They were already past when he thought he had seen the familiar stature of a young man out of the corner of his eye. He not only turned his head but his entire body in the saddle in hope to confirm this. His movement was noticed by his fellow King.

“What is it?” King Elessar asked him curiously and Éomer confessed that he had believed seeing Faramir standing in the portal of the House of Healing, whilst looking out for his sister.

“Poor chap. Still suffers from post traumatic amnesia and depression.” The King of Gondor explained to Éomer. “I was to go and check on him and your sister later today. I want to see for myself what progress their healing has made. I suppose you too want to check on your sister. We can go together if you like.” 

Éomer nodded his head signalling that he agreed with the offer.

However both men were tied up for the next hours and it was Éomer who managed to free himself up first.

He called on King Elessar only to find him still surrounded by advisers and petitioners. Aragorn of course noticed the tall Rohirrim but could only shrug and motion Éomer should go without him.

 

So the leader of the Éorlingas turned on his heel and with a few quick strides left the Great Hall of Kings, crossed the courtyard and rushed one level lower to knock impatiently on the portal of the House of Healing.

He was well known there and the porter smiled and greeted him friendly as he stepped over the threshold. Knowing the young king for a regular visitor the porter gave him the numbers of the rooms of the two patients Éomer was known to have visited frequently before he had been called away to war.

“Your sister, m’Lord, and Captain Faramir have been moved to new apartments in the Western Wing. These quarters are more comfortable, I was told.” The porter said to him and pointed him in the direction to go after confirming that both patients according to the information he had from the healers directly made very good recovery and that all the healer were pleased with the progress they were making.

 

Thusly informed, Éomer rushed on through the long winding corridor. As soon as he arrived at the western end of the building he had to make a decision whom to visit first as his sister Éowyn’s accommodation was down the t-bend in the corridor to the left and Faramir’s rooms in the opposite direction.

He didn’t hesitated long and turned to the right, rushing down the hallway and shortly after he knocked at the door to Faramir’s quarters.

The door was opened from within and Éomer found himself standing face to face with the young Captain of the Gondorian Rangers. 

“Faramir, I am glad to see you.” He greeted friendly.

“You are back then.” Faramir answered and made way to let Éomer enter into the room.

 

Éomer looked around surveying the spacious accommodation with a direct entrance to the vast park-like garden. There was a large day-room and a equally large bedroom with a bathroom that was accessible from both rooms.

“This is a fine place. I feared they had boxed you up in a tiny and damp room.” Éomer joked and finally confessed. “However I just wanted to see how you fare.”

The face of the Gondorian fell a little bit at this announcement of his visitor, very much to the delight of Éomer who watched as Faramir was struggling to hide his disappointment.

Éomer smiled and put Faramir out of his misery immediately. 

“I just want to check on my sister quickly. She’s on the other end of this corridor. If you like I come back afterwards and we can sup together.”

Faramir blushed a little and nodded his agreement.

“If you like I shall tell you about the battle we fought at the Black Gates. If not, we can talk about other things.” Éomer opted before taking his leave just to rush down the corridor under Faramir’s watchful eyes until he had reached the opposite end of the Western Wing. 

Faramir stood still in the door when at the far end the door was opened and Éowyn flung herself into her brother’s arms laughing loud and squealing with joy to see him safely returned.

Before entering Éowyn’s apartment Éomer turned his head and locked eyes with Faramir. He nodded and vanished into his sister’s accommodation which turned out to be of similar make as Faramir’s.

 

Two and a half hour later and Éowyn began to show signs of fatigue which were the perfect excuse for Éomer to say his ‘good night’ with the promise to visit again the following day.

He urged his sister to lay down promising to tuck her into her bed as he used to do when they had been still children.

His sister smiled sweetly at him and then before he had finished tucking her in she was asleep. Fondly he smiled down and brushed his lips over her forehead. 

“Sweet dreams, little one.” He whispered before tiptoeing out of the room and pulling the apartment door shut silently as possible.

Just then a face framed in long ginger-blond hair which caught the last rays of sun forming a formidable halo around the young man’s head showed at the other end of the corridor.

Éomer smiled. Faramir was obviously eager to see him again. This was a good sign. With a spring in his step he hurried over and they clasp hands in greeting before Faramir pulled him inside.

 

“How is your sister?” Was the first question asked when the door fell shut behind the two young men. 

Éomer quickly gave Faramir a recap of what he and his sister had done and talked about. 

They were still discussing the healing process and progress of Éowyn and Faramir when the door was knocked and opened and in came one of the many servants to lay out the table for the two men.

“What are we having tonight, Luinwendë?” Faramir asked the woman.

Her face lit up at the fact that the young Captain knew her name. 

“Porter has informed us that you are having young king Éomer for a visitor. So Kitchen has prepared something special. You will like it.” She said as she placed the last of the bowls onto the table and with a “Enjoy!” left the two alone.

 

Faramir had asked Éomer to tell him about the fight he had been to and how the enemy had been defeated. However Éomer had insisted that they would eat first. “This is no tale for an empty stomach.” He had said.

When Luinwendë reappeared to collect the dishes she found the two men retired to the chairs by the fireplace. The fire was already lit. They had stacked the dishes neatly for her just to pick them up and carry them away.

Only briefly listening in she heard the King of Rohan speaking about how the old wizard Mithrandir had mounted the leader of the great eagles and flown off in search of Frodo and Sam.

She didn’t listen any further as she had heard it all told already. The two men by the fire didn’t notice her leave again.

 

Faramir had been pale throughout the tale, turning his glass holding his brandy in his hands. Éomer had sipped from his every now and again to moist his lips when his throat seemed to get tied. 

When the tale was told both sat silent for a long while finishing what was left in their glasses.

Then suddenly Éomer got up. 

“It’s getting late and you might want your sleep.” He said, but Faramir placed his hand on his arm.

“Sleep is failing me lately. Please stay.” 

Pulling Éomer by his sleeve back down the young king finally succumbed to the wishes of his Gondorian friend.

“Alright. I stay. But now it is your turn to tell me something.” He said as he refilled their glasses. 

Faramir stared at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, on my way into the City I was riding next to King Elessar. He mentioned that you are suffering from amnesia. So how about you telling me what you can remember?” Éomer said.

“I wouldn’t know where to begin?” Faramir said looking past his friend in a melancholic fashion.

“How about ... yes ... do you remember when we met the first time?”

Faramir smiled and nodded - yes, he remembered that.

 

He had been called out of school that day.

He tried very much to keep up with his older brother as they raced up the levels of Minas Tirith. Their training facility was on the third level and the school on the second. And from school they had been summoned by their father.

However Boromir was much taller and striding out with his long legs covered more ground. Soon Faramir lost touch and had to start to run to catch up. Father wouldn’t be pleased to hear that he had run. “A Steward’s son marches with dignity and never runs, never breaks into sweat. This is not seemingly.” He used to say but also “Punctuality is the politeness of kings. Make sure to arrive always in time.” 

Faramir was trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea. If his father would hear that he had had to run he would be disciplined, but even worse if he would arrive late.

Boromir was already two yards ahead, he mused if he should shout after him, but he knew that he would arrive at the Great Hall out of breath and covered in sweat anyway. 

He could only hope that father wouldn’t ask him something before he had his breath back.

His brother was waiting for him at the entrance to the Hall.

“Gosh, Famy, wait. Stand still. You can’t appear before father like this!” Boromir said in mock scolding and reached out to button up his collar, straighten his jacket and wipe the sweat of his face with his handkerchief.

“Thank you, Boro.” He beamed back at his brother but clearly out of breath.

“OK, collect yourself. Ready?” Faramir nodded, smiling broadly back at his brother and hero. One day he hoped to be like his brother and to earn his respect. He would do anything for that.

 

The two brothers entered the Great Hall side by side and a smile flickered over the features of the guards by the door just to vanish as quickly as it had appeared.

The two boys marched forward with straight backs and heads held high, just as their father had told and taught them. They didn’t stop until they were in short distance from the dais of the Great Throne and the small one on which their father was sitting in full state. Next to the Steward of Gondor sat a strange looking man in full ornate smiling very friendly at them.

There was quite a group of people already gathered. Some of them Faramir knew as they were advisers of his father. Other he had never seen before.

Amongst the group of strangers there were two boys as well. Faramir couldn’t help himself from letting his gaze wander over ever so often. Both stranger boys had very fair hair. Apart from them being almost of same hight this was the only thing they had in common. 

Faramir almost missed out when Boromir bowed and Boro had to tug at his sleeve. Hurriedly he bowed too. 

He was sure that he would hear for that afterwards.

‘Don’t dream, boy.’ He couldn’t recall how often he had heard that in the past.

Another tug on his sleeve and he raised again thankful that Boro was there to watch out and over him.

Faramir watched on as the guest leaned over and spoke to his father. He registered that astonished look on his face. However what ever it had been the stranger had asked for the wish obviously had been granted. The two men raised from their seats and crossing the short distance came over towards them. This time there was no need for Boromir to tug as Faramir immediately performed a brief bow to acknowledge his father and the guest. The stranger stood tall and proud as he was introduced to Boromir. Faramir could hear him asking questions about the level of Boro's education and skills. The stranger smiled and nodded as he listened to his brother's explanations. Then it was his turn to be introduced and he bowed again blushing bright red and grew very shy. He could see the anger brewing inside his father but he couldn't help it. However the guest who had been introduced as King Theoden of Rohan smiled and signaling across the room ordered two tall men to bring forward the two blond boys. 

Listlessly the two stumbled forward with encouraging pushes to their shoulders by the taller fair haired man whom the King addressed as introduced as his sister’s husband Éomund. The other man older and with much silver amongst the dark hair the King addressed as Hama.

The slightly taller and much slimmer boy clearly pulled a face as he was pushed constantly during the walk across the room. 

The other smaller, stockier boy however walked easily with a spring in his step at the side of the blond bearded man who showed much resemblance with the boy and the child was in no need of steering.

As the group of four arrived Faramir had his chance to take a closer look at the two boys.

 

Éomer and Faramir both smiled as Faramir reencountered their first meeting. Éomer sat on the edge of his chair his glass in his hands held low between his knees as he leaned forward. His eyes were fixed on Faramir’s face, lips.

Faramir’s cheeks had a pink tint and his eyes sparkled as he recollected. Éomer had of course the shared memory of their meeting but hearing what had happened before the meeting and how Boromir always looked out for his brother even from such young an age was a pleasure for him to have reconfirmed. Also he had been unawares of the nicknames the two brothers used between themselves.

“So you were called especially to meet with us?!”, Éomer recapitulated and Faramir nodded. 

“It was the first time we met. I remember that you didn’t speak Westron well then.” 

Éomer chuckled. “You rather mean that I didn’t speak Westron at all.” 

Faramir responded with a grin and a vivid nodding.

“You might remember as well,” Éomer continued, “that all Westron I know I learnt from you. ... NO ... don’t deny it for it is true. Without you I would not speak Westron so well.” 

Faramir blushed at the given praise.

 

Seeing Faramir with an excited flushed face, his lips glimmering moist in the light of the fire Éomer’s heart skipped a beat. How beautiful his husband looked tonight. If only he would remember that they were married. He certainly would know better things to do than sitting in these chairs reminiscing old times. Éomer sighed and smiled.

He reached out and placed his hand on Faramir’s. Faramir froze.

However Éomer decided to ignore it and with a smile he squeezed Faramir’s hand.

“It’s getting late my friend and I am just returned from war. Let us continue tomorrow. You need sleep as much as I.” 

Hearing these words Faramir relaxed and covered Éomer’s hand with his second. He nodded.

“Yes. You are right of course. How unthinking of me to keep you up so late. Forgive me.”

“No need for apologies, my dear friend. I enjoyed this evening very much and I am glad that you seemed to remember so much already. Maybe if you have me tomorrow, we can continue with this little walk on memory lane. So I am saying: Good night, sleep well dear Faramir. Until tomorrow.”

The two men had gotten up and slowly walked to the entrance door as they spoke. Arriving at the door Éomer shook hands with Faramir deciding against a hug after the experience he had made only a few minutes earlier. However Faramir was the one who gave him a hug and with a “You are surely coming back tomorrow.” saw him off at the door.

Éomer turned twice before he reached the corner of the corridor there he turned again and waved at Faramir who still stood in the door to his quarters.

 

 

The next morning until afternoon late Éomer was busy with advisers and  King Elessar kept him close to introduce him to the leaders of his important allies. The more time went by Éomer became more and more restless. 

“What is it my friend? Why are you so fidgety today?” King Elessar finally asked him as they a minute to themselves.

Éomer sighed. “It’s just I promised to see Éowyn.” He said and Elessar blushed. 

“OH, of course. How stupid of me! Of course. You have to dash. Apologize in my name. I shall excuse you with the visitors here.” 

Glad to get away so easily Éomer performed a small bow before he dashed out of the Hall in the same fashion as he had done the day before.

There was only one change to the day before, this time he saw Éowyn straight away and staid only for a very brief time as he found her in the company of several young women belonging to the staff of the Queen.

 

Knowing his sister was looked after and occupied he rushed along the corridor and soon knocked at Faramir’s door.

 

Faramir’s face appeared pale in the door and then his jaw dropped. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” He uttered and then grabbed Éomer by his arm to pull him inside.

“I am sorry, my friend. The King of Gondor was keeping me. He insisted to introduce me to all the foreign emissaries. I would have come earlier otherwise.” 

“Oh. Of course. You are King of Rohan now. You do have your duties to think of.” Faramir spoke subdued and in a whisper added, “How selfish of me to occupy your time.”

“NO, OH NO. I am so looking forward to this visit. All day. You can’t know. But these meetings and petitions and stuff. They are so boring. I am so glad to break free from all this. I am not used to sitting in a stuffy room all day long. Do you mind if we continue our conversation of yesterday by taking a walk in the garden? I could do with some fresh air for a change.”

Faramir looked at his young visitor who certainly looked slightly disheveled. 

“If you give me a hand we can move the table and chairs outside and have out supper there.” Faramir opted and quickly everything was rearrange. 

“I’m not very hungry yet. Are you?” Éomer enquired and as Faramir shook is head, “Let go for a walk through the garden first. The heaters will keep the food warm enough until we return.”

So they walked along the path side by side.

“Yesterday, you remembered our first meeting.” Éomer started the conversation, “What else do you remember? Maybe from when we met next.”

“There seemed to have been a long time between our first meeting and the next. Unless I have forgotten.” Faramir began haltingly but Éomer smiled and nodded. “Quite right. I was well in my teens and you grown up when we met next.”

Faramir was silent for a short while as he tried to recollect the memories of their second meeting.

 

He remembered how  he had hated the ride out to Edoras but his father had not been willing to leave him behind. The Steward’s duties called for the entire family to join, he had declared. 

Traveling in his father’s train meant long hours on horseback under his scrutinizing and watchful eyes. 

“I hated to visit Edoras. The slow progress with father riding in his coach and the troops on foot forming the rear just after the hoards of footmen in father’s command. I’d rather had walked as well.” Faramir recalled and Éomer had to chuckle at the memory of the saddle sore Faramir and the troubles he had climbing off the horse on arrival.

“But you weren’t there to greet us in the yard! How can you know that?”

“I was watching your arrival from the window of the library. Your brother looked dashing in his stately uniform and then there was you.” The young Rohirrim couldn’t help but laugh. “Your bum up in the air as you tried to slowly slide down the horse. ... And then you wobbled on your two legs up the stairs to the Golden Hall. Gosh, you were so sore. It must have hurt terribly.”

“It did. The wrong clothing, you know. Not made for riding but for running.” Faramir said and good natured fell in with the laughs.

“I know. Later in the evening after everyone had retired, I sneaked out into the stables to inspect your horse and the gear. They had given you a very old and tatty saddle. The leather was broken on several places from not greasing regularly. I felt very sorry for you then and I went to get some of the ointments from our healers. I didn’t dared to knock at your door so I just left it outside and dashed.”

 

Faramir looked astonished. “I thought it had been Boromir who had arrange for the ointment and not to embarrass me more had just left it there for me to find.” 

Éomer shook his head. “Your brother was already on his way to the town together with my cousin Theodred. They were eager to get their hands on some maidens and even more on some ale.”

Faramir chuckled at the memory. “Oh. Yes. ... The next morning both were terribly hungover and had to listen to a pretty stiff sermon of your uncle and my father.”

Éomer nodded. “Not that it deterred them at all.” He laughed remembering that the two older boys soon after had just made the same trip again.

“I had the feeling that you envied Theodred and Boromir for their freedom then.” Faramir said.

This drew a deep sigh from the breast of his companion. 

“I remember that we both rather jumped on the first come across that day. If it hadn’t been for your sister who managed to keep up appearance ...”

“Oh, the bloody know-it-all. She was a real pest at that age.” A very proud older brother joked.

“One could see how much you loved each other and all others present loved you too. I was quite jealous at first.”

Éomer gently placed his arm around Faramir’s shoulders now so much taller than the slightly older Gondorian. Cautiously not to provoke another freeze in his friend he observed Faramir’s reaction but this time he let it happen without hesitation.

“We became quite close shortly after. I taught you how to ride.” Then Éomer abruptly stopped blushing, noticing the double meaning of his words.

At the same time Faramir started blushing as well remembering their time at the lake.

Both fell quiet as they walked back to the table. 

“Hungry now?” Faramir finally managed to say and Éomer smiled and nodded.

“Yes. Very, now.”

 

Both men ate quietly and when finished carried everything back in the room. 

“Care for a drink?” Éomer asked and Faramir approved.

He went for the fireplace to lit the fire but Éomer interfered.

“OH NO, Faramir. Let me do that and you see to our drinks.”  Éomer said and they swiftly swapped places.

As they were sitting down by the fire, drinks in hand Faramir looked up at his guest.

“I have to overcome my fear of fire, you know. There will not always someone be someone there to take care of it for me.”

Éomer chewed on his lower lip. Of course Faramir was right. Still he could hardly contain this urge inside him to rush to his lovers aid all the time, protecting him. He already blamed himself that he neither had been there when Faramir almost had lost his life in the flames on the pyre Denethor had meant for his son and himself nor when his husband had been sent out to face a certain death. The thought was nagging him.

He would never be able to cope with the fact that he hadn’t been there for Faramir just as he hadn’t been there for his sister when she had faced the Witchking of Angmar and almost lost her life when trying to protecting his uncle. He hadn’t been there when his uncle had received the killing blow and not when Éowyn had been injured. He blamed himself continuously for that, although he hadn’t even been aware that his sister had smuggled herself amongst the lines of warriors.

 

He was torn out of his musings when Faramir suddenly asked him, “Did we really did do that? I mean, by that lake. With those books. Do you know what I mean? We did it because both of us wanted it, right?”

Éomer almost spilled his drink from laughing so hard at the memory.

It had been their second meeting, Faramir had staid with his father and brother for a visit in Edoras and they had managed to steal some time away for most of the days and go to the little lake near Edoras. They had started to talk of how live is as a soldier and Éomer had asked Faramir about what he had heard from the Éorlingas. As both had been virgins in this field he had spoken to his tutor and then they, Faramir and he had searched for literature to explain how it was done. 

There by the lake they had studied the books and the pictures in them and then they had turned the studied into praxis. That was when their love affair had started.

 

There was a slight tint in Éomer’s cheeks and he had to take a good swig from his glass first before he was able to reply.

“Yes, we both consented to it. And again yes, it is true we did all this.” 

Éomer swallowed another mouthful of his wine.

“What else do you remember?” He asked without looking at Faramir.

Faramir reached out and took Éomer’s right hand. Then he held his own right hand next to it. On both hands there was a small silver band of the same making on each ring finger.

“I think I remember it all now.” Faramir said lifting his eyes to meet Éomer’s, however he had to lift his face first.

Éomer’s hand in Faramir’s began to shake and then his entire body started to tremble as something that sounded like a sob left his chest.

Faramir rushed over and took him in his arms.

“Don’t.” He whispered in Éomer’s ear his lips brushing softly against the outer shell of the Rohirrim’s ear. “Don’t cry, my love. Please don’t cry.”

Both men swallowed hard at their emotions and then Éomer reached out to catch Faramir in a crushing embrace.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The King of Rohan whispered back. “I thought that I forever had lost you.”

They held each other in their arms as unwilling as unable to break. 

“Thank you, my love. Thank you for not giving up on me. For being there for me when I needed you most.” 

Éomer shook his head and now really started to sob. Finally he wailed his pain out into the world.

“But I wasn’t. I wasn’t there when you needed me most. I wasn’t there to protect you when you needed protection. You almost got killed. Twice. And I wasn’t there. I failed you. I failed you.”

“No, dearest. You didn’t fail me. You didn’t. You must stop blaming yourself. Your did your duty. You came to our rescue. Saved Gondor, Minas Tirith and me.”

 

The chairs were discarded and the two men built themselves a little love nest on a rug before the fire. 

Faramir’s head rested on Éomer’s chest. The young King was stroking and kneading his fingers through Faramir’s thick ginger-blonde hair. They had much catching up to do. Faramir eager to learn all the things Éomer had done since they had been together before the war. Then it was Faramir’s turn to fill in the gaps.

Time moved fast and soon Faramir struggled to stifle the yawns.

“It’s late.” Éomer said as he prepared to get up and leave. Only this time Faramir held him back.

“Stay. Please. Stay with me tonight.”

“Are you sure? What about your injuries? Will it not be bad for you?”

“I want you to stay and hold me. We have lost so much time already. Please, please stay.”

“OK. But you have to tell me immediately if you are feeling pain.”

Faramir laughed.

“Don’t laugh. I might accidentally hurt you in my sleep. I am sleeping very unsteady as of late. Don’t forget I have seen your burns. They looked nasty.”

Faramir grabbed the hem of his tunic and in one pull lifted it over his chest, shoulder and head. Peeling it off his arms at last revealing the scars that had remained from the burned skin and flesh.

Éomer hissed a sharp intake of air at the sight. However unable to contain himself he reached out and touched the shriveled up skin.

“They are healed.” He said. “Do they not hurt you anymore. They still look very red as if inflamed still.”

“No.” Faramir said. “They don’t hurt anymore.”

Éomer pulled Faramir close and pressed his lips onto the marred skin. Then he looked up into Faramir’s astonished face.

“I love you.” He simply said.

 

Later in bed it was Faramir who made the first move animating a apprehensive Éomer who still feared that he might cause his husband pain but with Faramir’s mouth and hands exploring he soon gave in.

Their love making was very gentle and tender both men straddling the urge of their desire. 

They fell asleep when the grey of dawn wiped out the blackness and the colors that had been eclipsed through the night started to pick up in strength.

 

A few days later and the healers reported back to the King of Gondor that the youngest son of the late Steward of Gondor could be released from the House of Healing.

“His memory is back thanks to the efforts of King Éomer.” They said, which caused the lifting of an eyebrow of Aragorn. However Queen Arwen chuckled and whispered in her husband’s ear. 

“Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of their special bond?” 

Looking at her husband’s dumbfounded face she laughed.

“Never mind, my dear. You were never good at this. But promise me one thing before you throw our young Captain back into the deep end, let them have a break. I think they deserve it.”

 

As Éomer insisted that he would not have his coronation until his sister was well enough to leave Minas Tirith and travel to Edoras, the two men made plans for a short holiday.

“I know the perfect place.” Both said at the same time and then had to laugh. Hugging each other both insisted that the other should say first which place he had in mind.

Finally they agreed to say the name of the place on the count of three.

“Henneth Annûn!” Was what both shouted and then equally blushed.

Later that day they mounted and rode out of the City taking the same route that Éomer had taken when riding out for the last battle.

Both were eager to reach the place and spurred their horses on.

It was well after dark that they arrived and before retiring into the cave that had been their honeymoon home they climbed up to the peak of the mountain renewing their vows under the moon and the stars.  
  
  
[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/j_flattermann/24717888/852786/852786_original.gif) [](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/j_flattermann/24717888/853105/853105_original.gif)

  
  


 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RSS Swap Request No. 11


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